At night, they switched off keeping watch. When Jude wasn’t on duty, he slept beside Anton in their tent. It reminded him of the days they’d spent in the Gallian Mountains, fleeing to Endarrion after the Witnesses’s attack on Kerameikos. The distance between them had felt so impassable then. Now they slept curled together, knees slotted against knees, but a distance still remained.

He sensed it in the gaps and silences. The questions that Anton left unanswered. Even in the way that Anton reached for Jude sometimes, desperately, as if to confirm that he was still there. But the closer Anton tried to keep him, the further away he seemed.

On the third morning in the valley, as they camped in a wooded area outside the nearest hamlet, Jude woke alone. He crawled out of his tent and found everyone already awake.

Khepri and Hassan were tending to a fire, and Beru had roped Illya into helping her reorganize their packs more efficiently while Ephyra looked on, sipping something out of a clay cup.

“Where are Hector and Anton?” Jude asked.

Ephyra shrugged. “Haven’t seen them all morning.”

A faint shout echoed toward him, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. Before Jude knew what he was doing, he was sprinting through the trees, sliding over the damp detritus until he caught sight of Hector and Anton.

Anton was picking himself off the ground, glaring at Hector, who just laughed.

“Was that really necessary?” Anton grumbled.

Jude watched as Hector set himself into an offensive position, his shoulders squared toward Anton, who immediately mimicked the stance.

“Try to block this time,” Hector said patiently, before lunging forward with an obvious strike.

Anton successfully turned against the attack and blocked with his arm.

“That’s it!” Hector said, sounding delighted. A moment later, he caught sight of Jude. “Morning.”

Jude blinked as Anton spun around, his expression still lit up with success.

“What are you…” Jude gestured weakly at the two of them. “What’s happening here?”

“Hector’s teaching me how to fight,” Anton replied cheerfully, pushing a tuft of blond hair out of his face. He looked unbearably pleased with himself, like he’d just won another hand of canbarra.

“Oh. That’s…” Jude didn’t know how to make sense of the feelings churning in his gut. “Good.”

“I just figured he might as well be able to defend himself,” Hector said, rubbing a hand over the side of his neck. “Make your job a little easier.”

“Right,” Jude replied.

Anton avoided his gaze.

“Well, anyway,” Hector said with false cheer, “great job, Anton. I’ll just … go help Hassan with the fire.”

He backed away through the trees, leaving Jude and Anton alone.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Anton chided.

Jude schooled his features. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”